


red lips, whiskey sips, shaking hips, nipple slips. my life as a rap song.

by brandywine421



Series: my life as a rap song [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drabble, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you seriously having one night stand guilt?  <em>Freshman,</em>" she muttered, rolling her cool green eyes.</p><p>Steve blushed, wishing he had pretended to sleep like Bucky had coached him.  "Sorry.  I'm still in orientation."</p><p>(Fluffy (and drunk)  'Text From Last Night' inspired drabbles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	red lips, whiskey sips, shaking hips, nipple slips. my life as a rap song.

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles have been taunting me from my hard drive for mooooonths.
> 
> This is the story of how Steve and Tony fall in drunken (faily) love while Bucky advises from afar.

**_Bad things happen to those who bang their lab partner at the beginning of the semester._**  
  
  
Steve shoved the phone in his drawer as Natasha stepped out of his bathroom in her bra and panties.  _Jesus_.  
  
"Are you seriously having one night stand guilt?  _Freshman_ ," she muttered, rolling her cool green eyes.  
  
Steve blushed, wishing he had pretended to sleep like Bucky had coached him.  "Sorry.  I'm still in orientation."  
  
She snorted softly.  She locked him in a staredown.  
  
"Um.  So.  What's the protocol for this?  Coffee and waffles?" Steve suggested after a long beat.  
  
Natasha blinked at him.  His cheeks burned and she startled him with a laugh.  
  
"Get dressed, Choirboy."

  
 _ **I feel like a color. Like a wavy color.**_  
  
"Who are you texting, Stud?"  
  
"My bff," Steve replied, leaning his head to the side to try and reorient himself to the tilting room.  He blinked at the stranger and said, "Your face is weird."  
  
He reached out his fingers and touched the rough beard.  "Your beard is weird."  
  
The guy laughed brightly with twinkling eyes and sat down on the couch, slinging an arm around him.  
  
Steve leaned his head on his shoulder.  "You smell nice."  
  
"Not weird?"  
  
"You're gold.  Red and gold.  Smells nice," Steve said.  
  
"My name's Tony.  I think I like you."  
  
"I like you, too, Tony.  Even though your face is weird."

 

  
  
 _ **(207):**_  
 _ **When he wears his hair down and sandals, he looks like Jesus. A Jesus I would fuck.**_  
 _ **(1-207):**_  
 _ **That's not what Jesus is for**_  
  
Steve watched Tony's crooked smile at his response across the room before turning his attention back to Thor's epic reenactment of his Parcheesi championship.  
  
Thor was sexy, but Steve had a crush brewing for Tony Stark that he wasn't entirely comfortable with.  
  
He'd done okay so far, sticking to casual sex and making friends.  His only blackout drunk episode far ended with him fully clothed, face down and unmolested in the backseat of Tony's limo.  Bucky had given him strict instructions and apart from the blackout, he'd been doing great with his checklist.  
  
He was slightly disappointed he had slipped into the friend zone with Tony but he'd become a good friend regardless.  The guy already had multiple degrees from the college but to avoid going to work for his father's company - he'd declared himself a lifelong student.  
  
He liked his eyes, dark and mirthful.  His manicured hipster goatee.  His lazy swagger and easy grin.  
  
Steve wanted to unwrap his layers and peel him raw to see his insides.  
  
"Stop it, you're ruining what little mojo you've managed to learn," Natasha said, scissoring herself on his knee and settling back against his chest.  "You could just ask him, he's pretty easy to get into bed if he likes you."  
  
Steve glanced at her, a flare of hurt.  "You mean..."  
  
"Don't give me that look.  He doesn't like me, so I'm out of the running.  He likes you though, because he's giving me the side-eye with a fervor," she said.  
  
"A _fervor_.  Nice one," Steve said, scanning Tony across the room again.  He was sitting more stiffly now.  
  
She kissed him on the cheek.  "Thanks.  Now, I've helped you with your problem, you can get me that hillbilly's number from your Spanish class."  
  
"You can't call people hillbillies, that's totally offensive."  
  
She rolled her eyes.  " _Whatever_.  Please."  
  
"Maybe.  And how did you help me anyway?"  
  
She winked at him.  "Got your target all riled up for you.  Go get him, soldier."  
  
He gave her a one fingered salute and she laughed.

 

 ** _I was told my cock was a religious experience._**  
  
"Stop sending me texts about your cock," Bucky said into the phone after Steve's last text.  
  
He wouldn't have believed a quarter of the stories his best friend told him, but Steve was the most honest person he'd ever known.  Sometimes too honest considering some of their recent conversations.  
  
"Dude, I can't talk to you now, I'm in his bathroom." Steve replied in a whisper.  
  
"Then why did you answer the phone?  When did your dick turn into Jesus?"  
  
"I'm drunk.  And my dick is the same dick, but the sex, Bucky, was _off the chain_."  
  
Bucky choked on oxygen.  "Never say 'off the chain' again, Steve.  I swear.  And no sex is that good."  
  
"I'm surprised I can walk."  
  
"I'm hanging up now."  
  
Bucky was going to have to revise his rules to include a gag order.  
  
Or maybe photographic evidence.  


  
 _ **What can i say, i'm an artist. I think deep thoughts. In between the homoerotica and pterodactyl noises**_  
  
Tony leaned against the door and watched the tense lines of Steve's back in his too-tight t-shirt and the sharp lines of the colors bleeding on the canvas.  
  
Tony always wanted talent like Steve's, the ability to make something beautiful without breaking it into jagged pieces first.  He could build things, anything, and he could solve the unsolvable like brushing his teeth.  
  
But he didn't see the world, process the beauty, the way Steve Rogers did.  He appreciated functionality and mechanics; not colors and shapes and emotions.  
  
"Oh my God, are you watching me over my shoulder?" Steve's eyes went wide and his brush dripped magenta onto his tarp.  
  
"I wasn't watching you paint, I was watching your ass, and that's not over your shoulder.  Wanted to know if you were busy tonight," Tony said.  
  
"I've got to finish this, I'm so behind," Steve said.  
  
"I can't tell because you won't let me look at it.  But surely you can spare a few minutes for me.  Maybe I can help," Tony said, closing the door and turning the lock.  
  
Steve gave him a suspicious look but Tony had a great idea.  He turned his back to the painting and pulled Steve into a kiss, palming his dick until it hardened against his hand.  
  
"Mm, Tony, we can't...this isn't a reserved...space... _God_..." Steve grunted as he got the zipper down and his fingers around his cock.  
  
"Consider it positive reinforcement," Tony said into his mouth.  
  
"I have paint on my hands, I can't... _Fuck_ , I'll pay for your laundry," Steve muttered, pulling him against him with both hands on his ass.

 

  
  
 ** _Walk of shame. Stopped at an estate sale on the way back to the house. Old lady pulled a condom wrapper of the back of my hoodie. beat that_**  
  
"So you're pretty into this guy," Bucky said after he'd clinked another beer with Steve.  
  
"What makes you say that?" Steve asked.  Bucky could only visit for a few days and Steve had been spending all of his free time with his best friend.  
  
"He met you after breakfast for a quickie in his limo, he showed up at the beach and banged you behind the beer tent and twenty minutes ago you blew him in the bathroom," Bucky counted off on his fingers.  
  
"How do you even know that?" Steve blushed darkly and glared at him when he smacked him on the back of his head.  
  
"Because your boyfriend is loud as _fuck_ ," Bucky replied.  
  
"He's not my boyfriend," Steve replied.  "We're just friends."  
  
"Sure, buddy.  So if he wanted to date someone else, you'd be totally fine with that.  Can I ask him out?"  
  
"Whatever, we're not exclusive.  And you'd never break the bro-code.  We don't do sloppy seconds," Steve said.  
  
"Um.  Natasha doesn't count, does she?" Bucky asked, avoiding his eyes.

 

  
  
 ** _(817):_**  
 ** _I think that's mostly how we became friends._**  
 ** _(1-817):_**  
 ** _Well that, and your desire to put your penis in me._**  
  
"So, are all your exes so cuddly?" Tony asked, flicking his bottle cap in the general direction of the garbage can.  
  
"Exes?  What exes?" Steve asked, tugging him back to the couch for closer inspection.  
  
"Bucky.  He was all over you," Tony muttered.  
  
"Before or after he puked on my shoes?" Steve snorted.  "Bucky and I have not and never will be together.  We kissed, once, when we were seven and there was bubble gum flavored ice cream involved.  He's like a brother, and he's mostly into girls anyway."  
  
" _Mostly_ ," Tony frowned.  
  
Steve tilted his head forceably to look at him.  "Are you jealous?"  
  
"No.  Maybe.  So.  You want to go out exclusively for a while?"  
  
Steve wondered if this was Tony's idea of romance.  "Um."  
  
Tony sighed dramatically and pushed him back into the cushion, kissing him breathless and pinning him in place.  "I don't like other people touching you."  
  
"I don't want to live in a bubble like John Travolta.  I don't like Scientology," Steve said.  Tony's face dropped and he tried to focus on the thought at hand.  "You want to go out with me?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"And not convert me to an expensive brainwashing cult?" Steve clarified.  
  
"You're cut off."  
  
"Do you want to date me because you like me or because you like fucking me?" Steve asked after a long swallow of beer.  
  
"Both?" Tony replied.  
  
"Huh."

  
 _ **He's my BOYFRIEND but he won't sext me. I'll be like, "tell me how you want to fuck me", and he's like, "I love how we can talk about our feelings". FUCK**_  
  
"Stark, how do you even have this number?" Bucky groaned, scrubbing sleep out of his eyes.  
  
"Are you calling me?  Normal people just text back," Tony replied.  "God, I'm so frustrated."  
  
He yawned.  "Because he won't sext you?"  
  
"Yes!  It's not that hard - "  
  
"That's what she said."  
  
Tony huffed out a laugh.  
  
"Why are you asking me about it?" Bucky asked.  
  
"Because you're his best friend and his role model, which scares the hell out of me, by the way; and I really like him and need to know if he's losing interest so I can get out before I fall any harder."  
  
"God, you're such a loser."  
  
"You're his best friend, you have to help me.  Is he bored?"  
  
Bucky adjusted the phone so he could roll over.  "Steve's pretty vanilla, I think.  He didn't lose his v-card until graduation," he said.  "Most of his experience has come from college."  
  
"I don't believe that.  He's too smoking to have been a loner in high school."  
  
"You didn't know him then.  He didn't bulk up until senior year, he has asthma.  Are we done?"  
  
"No!  How do I teach him to sext?  Can you make it a rule?"  
  
"Fuck off.  I'm not talking to you anymore."  
  
"I'll let you know how it turns out."  
  
" _No_ \- Goddammit."

  
  
 ** _Someone said we're out of ice. You collapsed on the spot and started sobbing, saying 'but where will all the polar bears live". That drunk._**  
  
Tony shifted uncomfortably outside of the gym.  He didn't have his college ID, or shoes, but he knew he had to see Steve as soon as possible.  
  
He wasn't completely sure what happened the night before, but he knew there was an argument, a black eye and a break up.  He's not sure of the order.  
  
He remembered the beginning, the house party and the body shots in the garage followed by beer limbo.  Steve wore his 'laundry day' jeans with the frayed holes in the back pockets and it was a good night.  Tony loved those fucking jeans.  
  
Until he woke up with a headache, a busted hand and an escalating number of angry texts for things he didn't remember.  
  
Steve spent every other morning in the gym honing his already sculpted body and avoiding jocks wrangling for him to join their various athletic teams so Tony had to be alert and ready to intercept him as soon as he walked through the exit.  
  
He had to find out what he did so he could start fixing it.  
  
God, he really liked Steve.  He liked him too much considering his parents had actually asked to meet him.  If he'd accidentally mentioned him to his parents - it was serious.  
  
Tony didn't know how to do serious but goddamn it - he wanted to try it if it meant he could have Steve.  
  
Finally, Steve stepped out and Tony hurried over, sticking to the grass since the sidewalk was already hot.  "Hey.  Can we talk?"  
  
"Morning, Sunshine," Steve smiled.  That was weird.  He thought...well, it didn't matter what he thought when Steve kissed him.  "What's up?  Where are your shoes?"  
  
Tony held up his phone.  "I don't know.  What exactly happened last night?"  
  
Steve threw an arm around his shoulders and jostled him.  "Ah.  Where do you want me to start?"  
  
"Didn't we have a fight?" Tony hesitated.  
  
"Oh yeah.  You unplugged my controller three times when I was playing Call of Duty online with Bucky.  I felt bad for kicking you out of the TV room since you proceeded to fall in love and break up with with the keg, three poolchairs, the neighbor's dog and a cheeseburger.  Pretty sure you murdered the cheeseburger over it," Steve smirked, fond.  "By the time I found you, you had drawn black eyes on all the statues in the park within walking distance."  
  
Tony didn't remember any of that.  "Then what happened to my hand?"  
  
"Your relationship with the keg was very abusive, you have an awful temper when they don't give you what you want.  You really wanted to tap that," Steve grinned.


End file.
